


Short Green Day stories, using random words

by Toffybird



Category: Green Day
Genre: Blindness, Camping, Comfort, Family, Fights, Food Jealousy, Gangs, Gen, Halloween Costumes, Hints of Insomnia, Memory Loss, Mentions of Character Death, School AU-ish, Science and Sharpies, Tré being Tré, War, graveyards, horse riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:52:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 8,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toffybird/pseuds/Toffybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short works, using a random word generator 'cause I need things to write about. The stories will range from Green Day's younger life and to around present times and anywhere inbetween, depending in what comes into my head to fit the Random Word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grades

**Author's Note:**

> Billie is in trouble. His mother is not very happy with his school work. I find this really cute XD

Billie was happily strumming away at his much-loved blue guitar, mashing together some random cords, not aiming to make another song, just enjoying the sounds it made. The door clicked open and slammed shut downstairs. He grinned and placed Blue on his bed, while he jumped up and ran put of his room. Running down the stairs, making as much noise as possible and skipping the last few, he made his way towards the kitchen.  
He smiled once he saw his mother unpacking the paper bags of food, and walked over offering help.  
He only got a small smile and a nod in return. The unusual silence that settled between them told the youngest son there was something wrong.  
“Mum? Is something up?” He questioned.  
“After unpacking, would you sit in the living room? I need a word with you.” She said softly.  
‘Oh crap, what have I done now?’ He smiled but it turned out as a grimace. The rest of the unpacking was done in silence. Billie left the last bag to his mother and left towards the front room, wracking his brain for any memory of him doing something wrong. Caught smoking? Sneaking out with his friends? Arguing with his ‘step father’? Actually, he didn’t care about that last one.  
Ollie sat down in front of her son, watching him stare into space and play with the hem of his shirt. “Billie-”  
“I didn’t do it! Or… I-I didn’t mean to do it!” Billie Joe interrupted before she could start properly.  
“I didn’t even say anything, is there something you need to tell me?”  
He mumbled a quiet ‘no’; he didn’t need to get in anymore trouble.  
“Well, while I was out today, one of your teachers called…”  
Oh no. School. Anything could have happened. He could just blame it on Mike, saying he was a bad influence on him, but he didn’t want to get his best friend in trouble and grounded, he wouldn’t be able to see him and that would seriously suck.

Ollie had stopped talking, she looked at her son as he wondered into his own world again, she sighed and wished he could concentrate for more than five seconds; she would just have to show him then.  
“Billie.” His mother called him. He shook his head and looked at his mum then at the piece of paper she was holding out at him. It had a big, angry red ‘F’ circled on the front.  
Oh.  
“Billie, you skipped, didn’t you?” She looked at him with knowing eyes.  
Well, no point trying to get out of it, she already knew. “Yes…”  
“Billie?”  
He looked at her again, hoping that she would explain her disappointment and he would get off with a warning.  
“Yes?”  
“You’re grounded.”


	2. Pockets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré finds something in his pocket, something fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why Billie is a bit creeped out by Tré in this chapter, but I was so yeah...

“AHH!”  
Billie and Mike both perked up at the shout of their drummer from the other room. Billie looked over at Mike, “Do we have to go?”  
“Suppose so, otherwise he’ll come in here and start complaining how we don’t care about him.” The bassist stood up from his place at the table and walking over to the bedroom. Billie followed suit, placing his pencil unnecessarily hard on the table.  
Once they enter the room, they saw Tré sat on his bed, crossed legged, holding something in his cupped hands. He quickly stuffed his hand in his pocket as he saw his two band mates.  
“Oh, hey guys!” he said, smiling at them widely.  
“What’s up, Tré?” Billie asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
He waved a nonchalant hand, “You know, same old.”  
“Right.” Mike stared at Tré, like he was trying to work something out. What ‘same old’ would Tré do on a bed…? Mike shivered.  
They were all silent for a few long seconds until Billie pointed something out.  
“Tré, your pocket is moving.”  
The shortest hummed in confusion, then spotted his wriggling jacket pocket, “Oh um… Ok.” He jumped up and pulled whatever he had in his pocket out in his cupped hand, holding out in front of him to show his friends. “You’ll never guess what I found in my pocket.” He grinned.  
Billie, getting slightly scared, moved behind Mike, just enough so if he needed to, he could use Mike as a human shield.  
Mike looked at Tré with confusion on his face but nodded anyway. “Ok.”  
Tré almost jumped with excitement, he slowly removed his hand that covered the other.  
Billie and Mike leaned towards the… Little fluff ball in Tré’s hand.  
“The hell is it?” Billie poked it. It uncurled and two rounded ears poked out as it looked at the guys in front of it with its beady, black eyes.  
“It’s a Mickey Mouse!” Tré laughed.  
Mike rolled his eyes, “You say you found it in your pocket?”  
Billie smiled, and chuckled evilly, “Did it leave you a present?”  
“W-what!?” Tré threw the mouse at Mike and ran to check his clothes.  
Billie and Mike sniggered at the drummer while the mouse curled in Mike’s hand.


	3. Mud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy gets to spend a day with his son, however it's raining, but Billie doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad a came up with this, this is so cute! Aww! :3  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this idea of mine. :D

“Billie?” Andy called upstairs for his six year old son. He heard a rumble of stumbling footsteps running and jumping down the stairs. Soon a small boy with curly brown hair leaped at his father who caught him in probably the biggest hug he’s ever had. He laughed heartily and stroked his hair, “Careful Billie, don’t want you to get hurt, otherwise we couldn’t spend the day together.”  
He peered down at his sons bright eyes filled with hope and excitement, “Really?!”  
“Yes really.” He grinned.  
“Go and grab a coat, honey, it looks like its going to rain.” Ollie said from the door way.  
“Can we get ice cream?!” Billie jumped.  
“In the rain?” Andy laughed.  
“Uh-huh!” The six year old nodded enthusiastically.  
“We’ll see, now go on.”  
Andy and Ollie watched as their son race upstairs with smiles on their faces, being the youngest out of six was difficult.

After a full day of being in town and thoroughly enjoying themselves, they walked through the park in the rain while Billie finished his ice cream. Billie held onto his father’s hand, looking around the park. He spotted a big, murky brown puddle no too far away from him. He munched down the end of the cone and sped of to the puddle, he wet hand slipping easily from Andy’s.  
“Billie, wait!”  
Billie wore a mischievous grin as he looked behind and saw his father race towards him, he stopped just before and waited for his father to be in range. When close enough, Billie grinned and jumped with all his might into the puddle.  
Andy paused out of disbelief, he’s son had planned that, he chuckled while shaking his head. He didn’t even suspect.  
He looked down to see both himself and Billie covered in muddy water, his son grinned and wiped his hair out of his eyes. He bent down and picked up his little boy, and pinched his nose slightly, “Your mother is going to kill us.”  
Billie just laughed and hugged his father.  
He loved days like this.


	4. Microscope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tre annoys Billie in science, Billie takes revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was slightly difficult, but I think I managed. Oh and one swear word.

Billie Joe, Mike and Tré grouped themselves together for their science class (like usual), much to the displeasure to the teacher. They were at the back, messing around and laughing like always. Most of the class had learned to ignore them, but it was still difficult to teach.  
Tré put his hand up and bounced up and down, “Sir, I can't see anything! It doesn’t work!”  
“You idiot, you have to turn on the light.” Billie nudged Tré, pointed to the lamp.  
He let out an overly long ‘ooh’, and flicked it on. He looked at the teacher and shouted, “Never mind, I got it!”  
Mike smiled as he continued looking through the text book.  
The teacher was just glad they weren’t using chemicals today.  
“Okie dokie, lets see what we got.” Tré grinned as he leaned in and put his eye to the microscope. He messed around with the focus controls for little bit before exclaiming, “Argh! Why don’t these things ever work?!”  
Mike chuckled and Billie laughed at Tré’s poor attempt and science. Mike pushed the shortest out of the way, fiddled with the apparatus before stepping back to his book and slapping Tré on the back, “There ya’ go.”  
Tré frowned and looked through the lens, “Ooh a leaf.” He deadpanned, “Why can't we look at something cooler?”  
“Like what?” Billie asked.  
“Like this,” and he plucked a strand of Billie’s black hair of his head and put it under the microscope. “Ooh.”  
“Ow,” Billie rubbed his head, “What?”  
“BeeJ, you need to dye your hair again.” Tré grinned smugly.  
Mike laughed while Billie frowned.  
“Frank, over here.” The teacher called over.  
Tré skipped over, “Tré’s good teach.”

While Tré was distracted, Billie pulled out a black sharpie. Mike gripped his wrist, “What are you doing?”  
“What? He took my hair.” Billie explained, as if it was a good enough case. Mike released his wrist and kept an eye out for their third friend.  
Billie began to colour around the eyepiece of the microscope, grinning like a manic all the while. Mike tapped his leg when Tré turned around.  
Billie hid his sharpie in his pocket and hurried Tré over; Mike buried his head in the book, pretending not to know.  
“You alright?” Billie asked.  
“Yup.” Tré said simply. He stuck his head down onto the lens again.  
Billie couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped and he covered it with a cough. Tré looked up in question and Billie couldn’t hold in the rest of the laugh, he went borderline hysterical. This caught the attention of the rest of the class and once the saw Tré, the soon followed suit. Tré looked around, confused, from the class back to Billie then Mike, who was also laughing.  
He took out his phone and looked at his reflection; he had a deep black circle around his eye. “You son of a bitch.”  
Billie watched as Tré tried to rub it off, “Sharpie. That’s not coming off.” He pulled out the black pen and twirled it around his fingers.  
Tré looked at Billie angrily.  
“Don’t touch my hair.” Billie said smugly, mocking Tré from earlier.


	5. Cereal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ollie cooks breakfast, Billie gets up late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? Cereal? Haha, random word generators are so funny XD

“Mike, would you like some breakfast?” Ollie asked her youngest son’s best friend.  
He nodded quickly adding a ‘please’ after a second thought.  
Turning to the kitchen to get the ingredients for pancakes, she began cooking.  
“Did you two have a late night? I know Billie doesn’t usually sleep later than you.”  
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Mike chuckled, “As well as doing anything to wear him out. I’m getting fed up of him calling me in the middle of the night saying he can’t sleep.” He said, while still smiling.  
Ollie smiled too, but with a bit of sorrow in her eyes, she was so thankful that Mike looked after her baby boy.  
Mike, seeing the sadness, decides to change the subject, “The food smells great, by the way, is there enough for BeeJ?”  
“I’ll have to go out and get some more ingredients for him; hopefully he’ll still be asleep when I get back.” She grinned.  
Mike nodded, and stared at the pancakes on a plate being handed to him. His stomach rumbled.  
“Ok, honey, I’ll be right back. If he wakes, tell him I’m at the shop.”  
“Will do.” Mike said around a mouthful.  
The door closed and the blonde got up and rummaged through the cupboards. He moved random food items out of the way, picking up the cereal and placing it on the side, it being the biggest thing in the way.  
He found the syrup and went back to his cooling breakfast.  
A minute later he heard loud footsteps thud down the stairs; Mike rolled his eyes at Billie’s childish-ness.  
He bounded into the room like a calf in spring, with a big smile on his face.  
‘He must be feeling better after that full night sleep.’ He smiled back.  
“’Sup Mike?”  
He was about to answer when he caught Billie’s look. He was staring at his plate of pancakes and then at the box of cereal. His smile was replaced with a frown. He left without another word and Mike couldn’t help but laugh at the stomping feet leading upstairs and the mumbles of curses following him.


	6. Custard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie is ill, Mike doesn't like it, Tré thinks custard will help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not one of my best ones I think, but I still enjoyed writing it. Hmm, yup.

Mike and Tré were both at there limits with Billie. He had been complaining about how ill he was feeling for days. Tré said it was his way of sharing the pain. Mike didn’t care; he just wanted it to end. They both were reluctant in visiting Billie, who knew how he’d be today, but they were friends and they didn’t ‘abandon’ each other, another one of Tré’s sayings when he was ill. The rule sort of stuck.  
“I know what’ll make him feel better!” Tré beamed at his taller friend as they walked to Billie’s house.  
“Really, please do tell.” Mike wasn’t really in the mood for his hyperactive friend either; he’d rather leave them both here and head on home.  
“Custard!”  
“… Custard? Why?” Mike opened the door and entered, followed by Tré. Who needs knocking, they practically lived there anyway.  
“Made me feel better.” Tré grinned.  
“Uh-huh. Billie? Your butt better be out of bed!” Mike called, not really acknowledging Tré’s rather random ramblings.  
They passed the front room and checked the bed room, and Billie was in neither. The loud crash that echoed through the house lead them to the kitchen where they saw Billie kneeling on the countertops searching through the cupboards.  
“I see you’re feeling better.” Mike crossed his arms.  
Billie turned, “Well apparently I have to get up and feed myself.” He smirked, wincing a bit from his sore throat.  
“You poor soul.”  
“Anyway, my throat hurts and I ran out of hot chocolate.” Billie’s voice was muffled as he stuck his head back into the cupboard.  
Tré, who had been unnaturally silent throughout, cleared his throat and pulled a bag from behind his back.  
Brow’s furrows, Billie slid down off the side and took the package, “Custard?” He looked at Tré with an amused look.  
Mike almost face palmed.  
“Yup, custard!”  
“Sweet! Thanks!” He smiled cheerfully, the promptly sneezed. Three times. He looked up at Mike with an abashed smile, “Mike, please?”  
“Oh fine.” He snatched the packet out of the guitarists hand and shooed them into the living room.  
“Make three bowls!” Tré called back.


	7. Gangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie walks home on his own, gets into trouble, then comforted by Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One swear word, and a fight. Gangs are stupid, thinking there all tough and stuff. Plus, poor Billie!

Walking home alone never bothered Billie at all. His mother told him not to. Ever. He was to always walking home with Mike, either to his house or his own. He never understood his mother’s paranoia before but he went with it to make her feel better. However, today Mike was going to pick up something from his house and Billie couldn’t be bothered to walk to Mike’s house then his, his was closer anyway. Mike warned him about his mother’s choice but Billie left anyway, it’ll only take twenty minutes. They said there ‘see ya’ later’s and went their separate ways.  
Billie walked his usual way home; everything was the same as it normally was.  
“Whoa, look out boys. We got a punk on the way.” The remark was followed buy a chorus of laughter.  
Well, almost the same. If there was anything he hated, it was people mocking him and the way he dressed. He spotted the gang, they were wearing hoodies and tracksuits, and didn’t know how to sit on a bench properly, how stereotypical.  
His anger spiked, “Is that a problem?” He growled out.  
“Problem? Yeah, a bit.” The supposed leader of the group stood up and walked towards him, the rest of the group followed behind him.  
“Well keep your problem to yourself.” Billie tried to move around them but they formed a human circle around him. One of the group put an arm around him like he was a old friend.  
“Look how short he is!”  
“He’s like a girl, even got the eyeliner to go with it!” Another said, snickering.  
He shrugged of the shoulder and pushed the offending person back, “Get off me!” He tried again to get out of the circle but this time he was caught by the leader, “What’s the matter boy? D’ya need to get home to mummy and dad-” the guy didn’t even get to finish is sentence before Billie kicked him in the balls. He bent over and gasped for breath, Billie felt very proud of himself.  
That set off everyone else then, one with a shaved head grabbed his arms and pulled the behind his back while another sent a punch to his face. He face whipped sideways and Billie felt warm liquid run down to his lips. Not giving up, he used his legs to kick in every direction. Unfortunately, his thin build made his attacks useless.  
Another punch to the jaw, one to his eye, a kick to the stomach.  
It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice shouting did he feel hope. He saw short blonde hair past the hoods; they were thrown out of the way, Mike giving kicks to the backs of their legs making most of them weaker. He punched the one holding Billie and grabbed the black haired boy, holding him behind his back.  
“You wanna carry on, fuckers?!” Mike shouted. Billie was sure he’d never seen his best friend this angry before.  
They ran off, the leader shouting a weak, “This isn’t over!”  
Billie sighed and rubbed his face, wincing as he agitated the injuries. “Ow… Thanks Mike.”  
Mike removed his hands, having a look for himself, Billie had a split lip, darkening bruise around his eye and jaw, his nose had stopped bleeding though and wasn’t broken. “No problem BeeJ. What the hell was that about though?”  
“They started on me! And brought up my dad.” Billie sighed once more, “I know, I shouldn’t let it get to me…”  
Mike pulled him into a hug. Billie returned it, breathing heavily in Mike’s jacket to calm himself down.  
“We should get you home before your mum does, she’d have a heart attack if she saw you like this.”  
Billie nodded and laughed slightly, “Yeah… Thanks again.”  
The taller one moved in the direction of the Armstrong household, pulling Billie with him by an arm around his shoulders, he smiled, “Any time.”


	8. Beard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré teases Billie in the morning about his growing beard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord, this was weird to write XD and you know the saying 'only a mother could love' or something... Yeah, just so you won't get confused. 1 Swear word, Billie's fault.

It was a Saturday morning, as it was the beginning of autumn, there was a cool, crisp breeze. There was not a cloud in the sky and the birds sang their songs.  
“Shut UP!” Billie shouted as he chucked the closest thing to him out the window. It happened to his alarm clock, and as soon as it crashed onto the stone floor, it began to beep loudly. The birds squawked and flew away in a panic.  
He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.  
Unfortunately, Billie wasn’t a morning person especially when Tré wouldn’t leave the night before, and is now somewhere in his house.  
“Wake up, sleeping beauty!” Speak of the devil, Tré burst into his room and sprang onto his bed.  
Billie mumbled something through the pillow.  
“What was that?” He giggled, moving his ear closer to the pillow. When he didn’t repeat what he said, Tré stated poking at his bare back that wasn’t covered by the duvet cocoon , “Oh, come on, you got up to shout at the birds.”  
Billie sighed audibly and moved his head up a few inches, “Piss off, Tré.” Then he thudded back down onto the bed.  
“That’s what I thought you said.”  
Billie moved to the side a bit so he could breathe and talk properly, “What time is it?”  
“I dunno, you threw your alarm clock out side.” Tré grinned. “And it looks like sleepy beauty needs a shave.” He pointed roughly at Billie’s not-so-smooth cheek.  
“Sleepy beauty needs more sleep.” And with that he covered up again, not giving up his hold on the pillow or duvet.  
“Hmm, I guess you’re right. I mean, you wouldn’t want to scare people with your ugly, prickle beard.” Tré jumped of the bed laughing all the way to the door, barely dodging the pillow that flew his way.  
“HOW COULD YOU!? I’M GORGEOUS, NO MATTER WHAT!” He sat up and shouted at Tré retreating form.  
“Says your mother!” Laughter still rumbled through the house.  
Billie frowned and rubbed his cheek, then promptly went to the bathroom to take it off.


	9. Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's halloween and Tré does what he is good at, being weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based slightly off this >>> http://assets.rollingstone.com/assets/images/story/green-day-preview-stadium-ready-new-songs-at-nyc-halloween-show-20111028/1000x306/main.jpg  
> Good god! I was laughing while writing this XD Oh Tré <3  
> Swears, 'cause what have I done???

It was Halloween and the boys were getting ready to go out, Billie had almost finished putting the black around his eyes when Mike burst into the room looking like just seen a ghost… Billie nearly laughed at that, however he was trying to rub off the black smudge on his white-painted face when he jumped.  
Billie huffed, “What?”  
Mike tried to fix his composure (he was wearing a black waistcoat and a white tank top with red ‘blood’ on his chest from his mouth, his face was painted slightly paler), and took a deep breath, “Tré.”  
“Shit, what has he done?” Billie dropped the sponge he was using to cover the black smudge.  
“I think… He’s out done it this year.” He said stiffly. “I don’t even know where he got it from!”  
“My mum’s down there!” They both took off downstairs. Billie was panicking; Tré was known to be a bit… over the top. He got really creative with his costumes. And he was really worried for his mum.  
They reached the front room and found his mum laughing happily with his, slightly crazy, friend.  
“Oh, you guys ready?!” Tré jumped up with excitement. Both Mike and Billie got a good look at Tré’s costume for this year.  
He was wearing mostly black, boots that went halfway to his knees, green and black stripped tights, short skirt ( _short_ short), and a short-sleeved top that he’d _cut_ so it didn’t even cover his stomach. And a fucking pointed hat to top it off.  
“Dude… What is wrong with you?” Billie was gobsmacked. Should he be worried or is this just part of the weird that he learned to live with. Mike wasn’t sure if he should look or not.  
Tré looked behind him, confused whether Billie was talking to him or not. “What?”  
Billie made frantic, jerky movements with his arms in his direction, “That!?”  
Tré only made a puzzled face.  
Billie sighed and straightened his jacket, “You’re gonna be freezing.” He said in defeat.  
“That all? I'm a man; a little cold can’t do anything!”  
Billie lifted a brow.  
Ollie covered her mouth and chuckled, “Well, I hope you three have a good time, look after each other.” She led them to the front door. Tré happily walked out, with a skip in his step, while the other two could only get out of the house with an encouraging push from Ollie. After giving a kiss to Billie’s dyed blonde hair, she closed the door and left her boys to it.


	10. String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ollie and Andy come home to find Billie has been... Creative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more difficult than it should have been... Sorry it's actually reeeaaally short.

As soon as Ollie and Andy opened the door, they knew something was wrong; wrong as in they couldn’t get into the house. There was red string crisscrossing down the hallway, they both looked at each other, Andy had an amused look on his face, Ollie was slightly annoyed but she knew who did it and she couldn’t stay mad at her baby boy for long.  
“I think he has your creativity.” Ollie said, pointing down the hall at the curly brown haired boy with green eyes staring at them, hiding at the end of the hall.  
Andy hummed in agreement, going to pluck a strand off the wall.  
“No!” Billie jumped up, coming out of hiding, “You can't touch ‘em, you have ta’ be careful, they’re lasers!” Billie giggled.  
“Lasers huh?” Andy grinned at Ollie who chuckled.  
Andy ducked underneath the first bit of string, lifting his leg so not to hit the one underneath it. He held his hand out for his wife and helped her through the maze of strings.  
Billie excitedly jumped from foot to foot, watching he parents laugh and stumble. He would have to thank his brothers later for helping him.  
Once out of the tangle of strings, his father ran to his youngest son and picked him up, lifting him up high above his head before hugging him close to his chest, Billie giggling loudly all the time. Ollie ducked underneath the last one, moving to give a kiss to Billie’s forehead.  
“Who gave you the idea for this, then?” Andy asked.  
“Me! I ask’d Alan and Dave to help with the high parts,” He pointed to the hallway, “I couldn’ reach it yet. I did the low ones.”  
“Where did you get it?”  
“Found it in the cup-board, I used all of it.” Billie said, proudly.  
Andy chuckled and began to walk upstairs, Ollie following behind. Stepping on the final step, Andy froze. The whole of the upstairs hallway was covered in red string, even in the bedrooms. Ollie and Andy looked at Billie in disbelief.  
“It’s an ad-ven…ture!” He exclaimed happily.


	11. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie doesn't make it home and is sent to hospital, Mike is there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a sad one this, well I think anyway.

Mike was the first to hear the bad news. Billie never made it home after they left the pub. He was found unconscious on the side of the road, bleeding heavily from the head and laying in a puddle of his own blood. He was swiftly rushed to the nearest hospital; he was in the operation room for three hours: fixing bones, knitting cuts, and stabilising his condition. After the operation, he was set in a room with a constant eye on him. It was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.  
Mike reached the hospital only half an hour later, he still had no idea what had happened or how Billie was doing, he was seconds from having a panic attack. And the woman at the desk was _not_ helping!  
“Please calm down, sir-”  
“I will once you tell me where he is!” He slammed his fists on the countertop.  
“Mike Dirnt?” A voice came from behind him, he turned and saw a doctor in a long white jacket, and he nodded. “Would you follow me, please?”  
Mike felt dread fill his chest. It was never good news in a hospital, it was full of disease and death, it never set well for Billie and now Mike understands why. He followed the doctor through the white washed walls, wondering when he was going to stop outside the room where Billie was, it seemed like it was taking forever, and every step was agonising.  
The doctor slowed to a stop and turned to Mike, he looked like he was trying keep his features neutral but he failed enough for Mike to feel sick. He pushed the door open for him, “I’ll stay out here for a bit. Call when you’re ready.”  
The bassist couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips. Billie looked so… fragile. He was pale and the left side of his face was swollen, he had a bandage over his head and across his left eye. His chest, from what he could make out, was bandaged too. The arms were attached to many tubes and wires, keeping him alive and monitored.  
Mike didn’t call the doctor, he couldn’t’ stay in that room and immediately left to talk to the man outside that could explain what happened.

The weeks after, Mike didn’t leave his side and when he told Tré, neither did he. They had said that it was the result of an attack and that the main target was his head, and… he might not wake up, and if he was lucky enough to, he could have some serious brain damage, they just didn’t know the full extent of his injuries.  
So when, after two and a half months, Billie’s green eyes flickered open, Mike almost cried with relief and happiness. But that almost completely left him when he saw the confusion in his eyes when he looked between him and Tré, and his heart broke when he heard him speak in a weak, cracked voice.  
“… Who are you?”


	12. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green Day has the worst luck while camping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have said this ages ago, but please excuse any mistakes, or if they annoy you that much, please tell me and I will fix them. I don't read through my work and I know I should. Oh well.

Tré suggested camping once. Mike thought it would be a good idea, take their minds off the oncoming tour. Billie always got restless when a tour was near; his already sleepless nights became filled with stress and nervousness. Of course, when he was on stage, he was the Billie Joe the fans fell in love with.  
They spent hours trying to find a nice place to set camp, mostly due to Tré’s lack of direction. Then another couple of hours trying to set up the tent. When they had finished it was already dusk, and Billie was grumpy, complaining that this was a bad idea and he was cold.  
“This is for your own good, BeeJ. We’ll be back in time!” Tré reassured, “It’ll be fun!”  
Billie tugged his sleeping bag around him and frowned, “Tré, we are in the middle of a goddamn forest, in who knows where! And what if the car doesn’t turn on? Did you fill it up with gas? Oh god, we’re gonna miss it!”  
Mike patted his shoulder, “Calm down Billie, it’ll be fine. You need to relax, and you can’t do that with frantic managers and magazine producers calling twenty four-seven.”  
“Does our manager even know we’re out here?”  
“Nope!” Came a muffled reply from the tent, followed by a quite frightening giggle.  
“Mike.” Billie whined, pointing at the direction of the tent, “Was this Tré’s idea!?”  
“It was,” Mike held his hand up and continued before Billie could disapprove, “But! I agreed with Tré, you need to loosen up. It’ll only be a couple of days; we’ll be back before sound checks.”  
Billie huffed and crawled into the tent, making sure to avoid the mound of pillows and sleeping bags, and he sat down, still with a massive frown on his face, “It wasn’t for me was it?” He said, pulling off his tie.  
“No, I… uh… ow,” The lump of fabric moved until Tré popped his head out and took a deep breath, “I just really wanted to go camping.” He grinned.  
“Of course you did,” Billie muttered, “Why now? We need to be at the-”  
“No! No, you need to enjoy yourself. And, come on man, CAMPING!”  
Billie shook his head, “It’s hardly enjoyable. We spent the first day finding this place and putting up the tent.”  
“Oh, shush. It’ll be better tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll camp properly.”  
Before Billie could jump over and attack Tré for his idiotic idea’s, Mike climbed in and glared at the drummer, “Get off my sleeping bag.” He said and pushed Tré off the mound and gathered his stuff. With a lot of moving and trying not to kick his band members in the face, Mike finally got comfortable in his sleeping bag.  
Tré followed suit, giggling while he purposely hit Billie and Mike. Billie, who was already laying down trying to sleep and forget he was there, lifted up his arm enough for Tré to see and flipped him off.  
“… We should tell ghost stories.” Tré whispered.  
“Shut up Tré.” Billie murmured.  
“You’re right, we’ll do it tomorrow. Night!” Tré shifted and snuggled down in his sleeping bag and fell asleep rather quickly.

The next day Billie woke up unnaturally early, or that’s how it felt. His fingers, feet and nose were freezing, and at some point in the night Tré had taken his space and pushed him to the edge of the tent. He grumbled and sat up. Pulling his tie back on and rubbing his eyes, he grabbed the zip and opened the tent version of a door. He paused with wide eyes. There were wolves, a whole pack, sniffing around the campsite.  
“Ugh, good morning Bill-”  
“Shh!” Billie hissed at Tré and re-zipped the tent slowly.  
“I know you hate this camping trip but do you have to take it out on me?”  
“Will you shut up?” Billie whispered harshly.  
Mike grumbled and said quietly, “What’s going on?”  
Billie sighed and peeked outside. Yup, wolves. He pinched his nose, “There are wolves roaming about outside.”  
Tré laughed and Billie flayed his arms to shut him up, but that wasn’t what made him quiet. It was the nose that pushed up against the wall next to Billie’s head. It sniffed around before moving away.  
Mike sat up and grabbed the zip. They all gathered around to access the situation. Billie resisted the urge to punch Tré. No, he will do it later.  
“I say we run for it.” Mike suggested, nodding at the car just a couple of meters away.  
“I say we use Tré as bait and get to the car safely.” Billie growled.  
“I disagree, let’s use Mike’s idea.” Tré shifted away from Billie slightly.  
Mike smiled despite himself, “On three, Ok? One… Two… Three!”  
All three rushed out of the tent and dodged the growling canines; they reached the car however it was locked.  
“Who the hell locked it?!” Billie shouted, looking behind him and saw the wolves leap towards them. They had the same idea and climbed on the roof of the car.

They decided to wait for the wolves to clear out. One of them continually sniffed at the car keys on the ground by the tent.  
“How is this meant to calm me down?” Billie deadpanned to Mike and Tré.


	13. Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré probably watched one too many romance movies...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say here, except maybe one half a swearword and enjoy!

It was way past midnight and Billie was staring up at the ceiling, willing his brain to sleep for once. He sat up from his bed as quietly as possible, so to not wake his mum, and opened his window. Sighing happily from the cool breezes that swept into his room, he pulled the chair from his desk and placed it by the window. He held his head on his hand, leaning on the windowsill, and looked out at the dark neighbourhood, jealous of all the sleeping people in the houses.

It was all peaceful until something hit him on the head. He gasped and fell off the back of his chair, “Motherfuck.” He rubbed his head, frowning as he searched the floor for what hit him. Billie found a rugged stone and tilted his head; he got to his feet and went over to the window. He didn’t see anything, but he did hear hushed giggling from a bush. He smirked and threw the stone at the plant and it shook violently. Tré edged out of the foliage with a frown on his face, rubbing his arm slowly. He grinned when he saw Billie at the window; he waved and whispered loudly, “Hey BeeJ!”

“Tré. What the hell, man?” He answered, still smirking slightly.

“Well, what was I supposed to do? You were awake! It was gonna be like in the movies, me coming to your house at night, throw a couple of stones at the window. You open it and I tell you to come down, and you would!” He took a deep breath, “But you had to ruin it! You opened the window, and your head was in the way.”

Billie shook his head, “You’re insane.”

“And you’re not doing it right.” He frowned again.

Billie held his hands up in defence, “Ok, ok. What do you want?”

Tré sighed, “Come down!”

“What for?”

Tré moaned, “Fine. Do you wanna vandalise some buildings and spray some walls?” He said, pulling out a bag from the bush. Probably filled with spray paint and stuff.

Billie looked disapproving and looked back into his room, thinking about school tomorrow and what his mother would think if he wasn’t in bed in the morning…

“Hell yes.” And he pulled on some jeans and a random shirt, losing his balance with his shoes, and then climbing down to a grinning Tré.

Tré pulled the bag onto his shoulder and the two of them wandered down the street with huge smiles on there faces.


	14. Catastrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War/Amarican Idiot AU, I think...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was fun. No idea where it came from but still. I'm gonna say that St. Jimmy and Jesus are two different people here, 'cause I can. Swears. This one, I think, has a beginnings of a story line... Yup. I would love to do it XD Oh and I couldn't think of anyone to be a bad guy (It's not easy like MCR), so I chose Nightlife/Lady Cobra (I think they are the same person...).

Billie, Mike and Tré took cover behind a wall of a broken home, the fires were still burning and the area smelled of death and burning flesh. Billie wiped the soot from his eyes as he inched forward to peer around the wall, keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun. He motioned to his team that the close was clear and the three stood up cautiously, still keeping an eye on the district. They moved out of cover and into the deserted neighbourhood. Billie sighed when he thought of all of the families that lived here in a better time. He felt a hand rest of his shoulder, and he looked over at Mike, giving a small smile.  
“Are we any closer, Billie?” Tré asked, looking down the endless streets.  
“I don’t know… We should be. It doesn’t help that we lost contact with Base, but if nothings happened it should still be a couple of miles.” His voice was steady, but his eyes shimmered with worry.  
“… I think I remember this place…” Tré whispered. He sprinted down the street, knowing his team was going to follow him. He stopped a couple of blocks down in front of a building. They all recognised it, even if it was crumbling down from attack and the years that followed after.  
“This is the place that we first met St. Jimmy.” Mike said solemnly.  
“No… This is the place where Jimmy saved our lives, where we joined this fucking war.” Billie has always hated this place. Sure, Jimmy saved there lives when they were performing and the building suddenly exploded, guns went off and the audience screamed. Most people thought the war was just a lie; there was no death count, no report on what was happening. Just people disappearing without a trace but after that, they all knew, everyone.  
They didn’t know why Nightlife was after them, or if she even was, some had said that the Jesus of Suburbia was hiding out there. But Billie didn’t care; he’s only joined because St. Jimmy had said the rebels needed help, and because Jason didn’t make it out of the massacre. While Billie got shot in the shoulder and Mike and Tré got out safely, Jason didn’t. Jason was killed in cold blood, and Billie wants revenge.

“I wonder where that son of a bitch went.” Mike startled Billie out of the memory.  
“It doesn’t matter; we’re here only to find Jesus, Whatsername’s orders.” Billie said, walking away, “We should set up camp.” He covered his eyes from the setting sun.  
Mike and Tré agreed, but soon it wasn’t so quiet anymore. Bullets shot passed them in a flurry, Billie pushed his team into the wrecked building. He nodded to them and pulled out his gun, glancing over the wall, before opening fire at the bodies moving behind the cover of buildings. However, they were low on ammo, plus there were a lot more guys on the opposing team and looked like they were expecting company.  
“Shit! Guys, move back, we aren’t gonna make it!” Billie shouted over the bangs.  
Just then, more guns joined the crossfire, and they were hitting the targets head on, they dropped like flies. Feeling confident again, Billie continued the attack.  
Everything was quiet for a while. The gun shots echoed through the empty streets. Billie told his guys to stay down while he peered over the cover.  
His eyes widened. “St. Jimmy?” He looked over to the other man that was beside him, “Jesus?” At this all three stood up in disbelieve.  
St. Jimmy chuckled, “Long time, no see Green Day.”


	15. Bandage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré falls out of a tree and Billie patches him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, I don't like this one much. I kinda had no idea what to write...

“I told you not to climb that tree, Tré.” Billie said as he pulled up the leg of Tré’s trousers over his knee. He winced at the amount of blood there was.

“No, you encouraged me to climb the tree, and then when you thought I was high enough, did you tell me ‘ _not to fall_ ’.” Tré huffed.

“Haha, oh yeah.” Billie relished in the memory, and straightened out the blonde’s leg.

“Ow! Oh god, it’s broken!” Tré said gripping his leg. And he did look unnaturally pale.

“Oh calm down, it’s only a cut.” He left the room to find a cloth to wet. When he came back, Tré was lying on his back on the couch, holding a pillow to his chest. Billie just shook his head, “You’re over reacting.” He knelt down and dabbed the cut.

“OW! Oh cut it off, it’ll be less painful!”

“Tré, you need both legs to drum.” Billie stated.

“You’ll have to do Green Day without me!” Tré exclaimed.

“I don’t think the fans would like that much, they won’t want a new drummer.” He cleared the blood away, the cut was actually quite big, _better not tell Tré that._ He thought.

“You could do it! I taught you!” He said proudly. “You’ve already got a guitarist.”

Billie rolled his eyes, “And who’s gonna sing?”

“… I will!”

Both musicians laughed at the image that created, what would Green Day be like if _that_ ever happened?

Billie patted Tré’s leg, “I think you’re gonna be fine.”

As Tré started to get up, he suddenly got an idea and pushed Tré back down. Back in the kitchen, he rummaged through the draws until he found what he was looking for, Billie grinned and raced back to Tré.

He knelt down again, pulled the plastic off the plaster and placed it gently on the cut. Billie took a step back while Tré looked at what his friend had done.

“Aww, Billie!” Tré jumped up and hugged him.

_Well, at least he won’t panic about it now…_


	16. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie hates mirrors. Somewhere along the line, mirrors start to hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda creepy. I'm not sure what to tag this as... Nope.

Billie hates looking in mirrors. Ever since he was a child he saw something… Wrong with his reflection, there was a glint in its eye that gave him nightmares most nights. He had told his mother once, she stood with him in front of the mirror and everything was normal. He never mentioned it again; he didn’t want to scare her.  
He was mostly on his own before he met Mike in the school cafeteria; most kids just looked at him, never bothering to talk to the quiet Billie Joe. They connected over their love of puck-rock, and being fast friends with him took his mind off his reflection. He was reluctant in telling his new friend about what he saw in the mirror, but Mike got it out of him when he went to the bathroom and didn’t come out, he had locked himself in a cubical, unable to leave in fear of the mirrors opposite on the walls.  
Mike was confused at first, he thought he hated the way he looked and he tried to discourage that, saying it wasn’t important at his age. Billie almost gave up on telling him the truth. He shook his head and tried to explain better, being only eleven, he didn’t understand much either.  
Mike didn’t judge him; he saw first hand how truly Billie hated his mirror image. He just hoped that Billie would be fine when he was older.  
They didn’t talk about it much when they met Tré, of course they told him, and obviously the drummer had some questions, but sorting out the band kept Billie’s mind off it. Billie had caught Tré looking at his reflection frequently, and he never said anything. He soon stopped, probably not seeing anything strange.  
Billie could sometimes see it looking at him from the windows of shops and houses he walked pass out of the corner of his eye. He kept his head down at these times, but still it looks.  
Mike and Tré really got worried when Billie flipped out and threw a chair at the mirror in the corner of the lounge, yelling at it to shut up. The guitarist ran out of the room and locked himself in his bedroom.  
Tré said he was off to bed by midnight; Mike nodded from his spot of the floor, outside Billie’s room.  
Tré knelt down and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Something in his eye told Mike that he actually believed his words.  
After he left, Mike sat there for an extra ten minutes before he stood up and knocked on the door. “Billie, please open the door, you need to talk.”  
His heart sped up when he heard the lock click open, the door stayed shut but it was an invitation to come in. He pushed the door and looked for Billie in the pitch black room, he saw a huddled figure on the bed and he sat down on the edge of it. He was just about to stroke Billie’s hair before arms wrapped around his chest and muffled words were spoken into his chest.  
“What?” He whispered, hugging Billie back.  
Billie only shook his head.  
Mike sighed, “When did it start talking to you?”  
Silence.  
“What did it say?”  
“It wants to… T-to… Hurt me.” Billie burst into tears.  
Mike was speechless.


	17. Horsepower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to play their new songs, they run into some problems, then Trè has an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the late update, my laptop doesn't work any more... I won't bore you with the details. Enjoy!

"What do y'mean 'the car's not working'?" Billie said, tapping his foot on the ground in agitation. Jason gave him a incredulous look, "You're joking, right?" Behind him the cars hood was up and smoke billowed out of the engine.  
"We're gonna be late, we need to play these songs."   
"Calm down Billie, we can reschedule. They won't mind." Mike input, seeing Billie beginning to worry.   
"But the albums need to be out soon." Billie said, weakly.   
"They'll be out, they just won't have preview of them... It's not like we haven't done it before." Jason said. Billie groaned, unhappily.   
"Guys!!! I got an idea!" Trè burst out suddenly. He was leaning against a gate that separated the road and a large field. "I'll be right back!"

"How did you even -AH!- get him to agree to this?!" Billie gripped onto the mane of the horse, leaning close to its neck. Trè came up beside him, laughing all the time, "The owner is a fan of Green Day! Don't worry Billie, we'll get there in no time!" Billie groaned as the horse's galloped along the road.


	18. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré gets up every night to comfort Billie in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally wrote something, yay! I do like the thought of Tré being creepy and not leaving Billie's house XD Oh well.

Billie doesn’t mind being blind most of the time. He’s sort of gotten used to it now. He can walk around his house normally, except when Tré stays over. He swears he comes into his house to sleep on the floor just to annoy him. They still practise and make new songs in the studio. And he has great hearing now. Although that can get frustrating, when he’s on stage, playing for his fans, he can hear everything, the drums, the bass, guitar _and_ fans all at once at an ear-splitting level. Not like it wasn’t before, but now it’s ten times worse and he has to really concentrate in hitting the right chords and sing the right notes.

And when it’s a new stage (which it mostly is) he has to walk around it with Mike, memorising the perimeter so he won’t fall off, that would be an embarrassing disaster. At least he wouldn’t be able to see in on the news or magazines. So he can’t _really_ go crazy on stage, it’s sort of a controlled… craziness. And he misses all the fans faces and the flashing lights. That’s the worst bit; it’s just _so_ dark and boring. He knows he has a problem with concentrating things, his mother used to get so irritated with it, with how he would just drift off into his own head. Now, now it’s worse. He has nothing to concentrate on, nothing to look at. When someone is talking it’s all too easy to for him to get caught in his own thoughts. He just _hates_ that.

This morning was just as normal as the others; he’d tripped over Tré, who just giggles at him, on his way to get coffee.

“Will you stop sleeping on my floor? It’s getting seriously annoying.” Billie grumbled as he click on the coffee machine. “Do you want some?” He grabbed two cups anyway.

He heard Tré fighting with rustling fabric and then jumping up and almost knocking Billie over with a Tré sized hug, which is massive despite his height, “Good morning Billie! How are you today?” He let go to grab some sugar. Thankfully, Billie can breathe now.

“My foot hurts.” He said simply.

Tré laughed, “Oh, you can talk, I got bruises everywhere!” He rubbed his sore side. Before Billie could say, ‘stop sleeping in my floor then’, he said, “I’m not gonna stop sleeping on your floor. It’s much more easier to pick you up when I’m already here.”

Billie sighed in defeat and mumbled a ‘whatever’, before grabbing his much needed coffee. That’s another thing he’s forgotten. He can’t ride his bike or car anymore. Now that was depressing. He hated not being able to see the city he’s passing by and he hates depending on people. Tré’s always the one to pick him up, Mike’s offered and so has Jason but Tré just wants his morning to start with a hurt foot. In a way, he’s grateful, Tré’s just trying to keep things the same between the band. He just hates depending on his friends so much, he feels like he’s using them. Sure he’s always depended on them before, but this was different.

“Come on Billie,” Tré said surprisingly softly, “The doctor said there was a chance you’ll get you’re sight back. It’ll be fine.” He sat down next to him on the sofa.

Billie looked over at him with his dull grey/green eyes. A small sad smile in place, Billie didn’t believe that. Not a word.


	19. Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Billie's mum encouraged them to actually go trick-or-treating, they needed to find a place to eat the bags of sweets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is like a sequel to 'Witch', where the band do actually go Halloween-ing. Yeah... Enjoy! Swears!

So, after Billie’s mum encouraged the boys to go out on Halloween with Tré dressed the way he his, the decided to find a quiet place to scoff themselves until they were sick. They couldn’t go home a do it, their parents would most likely take it away, and anyway, it was way too much fun to do it together. Tré led the way; he insisted he knew a great place. Mike and Billie already guessed where it was, where else would Tré take them on Halloween?

“Here we are!” Tré yelled, arms stretched out wide to show the location in all its glory.

Yup, a graveyard. How original.

“Tré what’s the point? Why not the park?” Billie asked.

“Get in the Halloween spirit Billie! This place is perfect; I don’t know why we haven’t done it before.”

Mike answered this time, “Because it’s a stupid idea and the groundskeeper always keeps an eye out for you.” He pointed out.

Tré had always wanted to go to the graveyard for Halloween, but the groundskeeper, for the past 50 years (more or less), had kept the cemetery clear of kids in costume. He was a creepy old-ass fuck, even to Billie, grumpy too.

Tré, remembering the reason they’ve never been here at Halloween, squeaked and jumped behind Mike.

Feeling pitiful towards his friend, and rebellious against the fucker and his rules, he decided to give Tré his wish. “I think we should try. I mean, what the hell are we if we don’t?”

Tré shivered, “N-normal…” He breathed out. Mike laughed and nodded his agreement.

“Great! Let’s go!” They trekked around the fenced area, away from the gate because that’s too obvious. Keeping silent, or trying to, they found a bit of ground that was higher than the rest, it was perfect. They let Billie go first; he used Mike as a boost up to get over the tall fence. He jumped down on the other side and then passed the bags of sweets through the bars. Next was Tré’s turn, Mike tried not to look up as the short blonde grabbed hold of the top of the metal barrier and jumped over. Billie just laughed; Tré was good at making things awkward for all of them, that damn skirt. Mike composed himself and climbed over with ease. Fuck him for being tall.

“Awesome! That was easier than I thought, and no sign of the weird fuck.” Billie cheered.

“Guys, guys. We are the first kids on the graveyard on this day in over 50 years! We deserve to celebrate.” Tré grabbed the sweets and made off for the perfect place to feast.

The group was sitting down on a hill, overlooking the rest of the graveyard. It was kinda eerie, there was some mist swirling around the tombstones and rotten, dead trees, but the boys didn’t care much, they were sitting in a triangle, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Tré started telling ghost stories, as silly as they were; Mike and Billie still listened intently. This was one of the times where Tré’s creativity came into play. The only problem was that they were so immersed in the story; they didn’t see the silhouette of a crooked man staggering towards them, using an old shovel as a walking stick.

Tré trailed of in his tale and grew pale. Billie and Mike felt forewarning danger as they looked behind them.

The old man shouted incoherently and then started to swing the rusted shovel at them.

Billie, Mike and Tré all screamed and ran for dear life, right out of the gates of the cemetery.


End file.
